Soft Surrender
by velveteenMemoirs
Summary: He absolutely hated the kid. It was obvious his very existence was an omen. Now, what should he do with the feelings that tell him he's the one at the wrong? AU.
1. Enigmatic Trepidation

**Rating:** _T_ - Swearing, minor violence later, but mainly fluff.

**Disclaimer:** Amano Akira-sensei owns Reborn! and all its characters; I solely use them for writing funtimes.

**Author's Note:** These two really are my top favorites. Again, I find they're better off together; thoughts?

* * *

Lazily combing his hand hair until it flipped at the edges, the softly grinning youth glanced at himself in his large mirror, before gently situating a priceless tiara upon his voluminous hair.

Suddenly, however, all amusement on his complexion faltered.

"Voiii, Bel, hurry the Hell up!"

Completely ignoring the raucous voice, he focused back on his features, before a flamboyant male pranced to his side.

"Are you almost done, Bel? Squalo-kin's starting to throw a tantrum downstairs~."

Once he made sure his fringe entirely covered his eyes from view, the blond turned his attention to his older sibling.

"Shishishi, such an ugly creature shouldn't be hurrying a Prince —"

He found himself interrupted mid-sentence as said silver-haired male barged into his room, his brute force causing the door literally to fly off its hinges.

"What'd I just say, fucker? Put down your damn make-up and let's go —!"

Abruptly, he stopped himself from continuing as an intricately designed knife was thrown at his face.

Staring at the metal weapon wide-eyed, incredulous, he turned back around to the younger blond with a feral snarl, vein bulging at his temple.

"No screaming, peasant~." He simply answered.

Opening his mouth to retort, the attention of all three was collected at a soft sigh from the doorway.

"Squalo, you're wasting gas and money by leaving the car on. _Again_."

Deciding with simply flipping off his younger brother, the silver-haired adolescent begrudgingly left, fuming as he stomped to the driveway.

Curiously watching the purple-haired youth with a smirk, the youngest ran his hand through his tresses one final time.

"Bye-bi, Lussuria, Mammon~."

Picking up his book-bag with a silvery laugh, he took off after a flippant trill of his fingers, happy to go bother Squalo with his mere presence once more.

Immediately, the two older siblings rid themselves of the whimsical feint they wore as Mammon plopped onto a rather comfy-looking bed.

He looked over at Lussuria, whom seemed to be thumbing the edges of a frame forlornly.

"You didn't tell him, did you, Lussuria?"

Pursing his lips, he set the frame back in its place as he watched his two younger brothers depart for school, bickering as usual.

"Mah, if you really wanted him to know, why didn't you tell him~?"

Exhaling another sigh, the darkly clad male spared a glance at the photo himself, studying the black-haired man depicted evanescently before answering.

"Not really; I just felt it would have been a smoother new semester if he knew beforehand."

Sinking into the blond's vanity chair with a weary sigh as well, Lussuria combed through the jagged edges of his red-dyed hair, though the act itself was pointless.

"Even you know that's not true, Mammon."

Closing his eyelids for a moment, giving him a rather weathered look, he frowned at a lingering memory slowly seeping its way into the back of his mind.

"He told me he saw him. About a month ago, at the mall." He suddenly capitulated, trying to keep the memory at bay from resurfacing.

Lussuria pouted, comically, as he poked his cheek.

"Bel didn't tell _me_."

Making sure to hide the faint smirk pulling at him, Mammon's complexion turned serious and slightly morose once more.

"I think he had already been predicting something bad was to happen today."

They both took a moment to stare at the photograph, longingly, and felt a twinge of guilt mar them.

"Ever since…_that_… happened, I think everyone did."

A scowl, rare as it was, further downcast Mammon's features.

Squalo doesn't seem to be bothered by this at all."

Lussuria gave a distant chuckle.

"He acts like these kinds of things won't ever affect him, but he's just denying it now."

Silently inquiring him to further elaborate, the exotically haired male continued.

"Haven't you noticed how many more fights he's been in lately?" He asked, slightly bemused.

It was the purple-haired youth's turn to chuckle.

"He constantly gets in fights; how could I notice the difference of them _now_?"


	2. Reunification

**Disclaimer:** Amano Akira-sensei owns Reborn! and all its characters; I solely use them for writing funtimes.

* * *

Belphegor scowled, though as uncharacteristic as it was, as he caught sight of a certain aqua-haired classmate heading towards him. Honestly, if he had known this was going to continue happening, he would have stuck with home schooling for the remainder of his educational years.

But, _this_? This was just too much.

"Are you okay, Senpai? You look a little… sick."

The kid didn't even know the half of it.

Refraining himself from scoffing, the blond merely shoved his things into his bag with as much discreet haste as he could.

He was _so_ going to have his brother's pay in blood for this shit.

Suddenly, the younger student managed to coax him into sitting back down in his seat rather compliantly.

"Look, Senpai, you've been acting really strange since last semester."

Avoiding any possible eye contact, he feigned an innocent guise.

"Is that so? Sorry, I hadn't noticed, Fran~. But, I'm —"

When he tried to pull his bound wrist away, only to find the grip tighten, the blond couldn't help as he frowned in time with the aqua-haired boy.

"Yeah, you have. In fact, it seems a lot like you're trying to avoid me."

Flinching, Bel cast his gaze away to a random spot in the classroom; anywhere those piercing, azure orbs didn't capture his.

Sighing tiredly, Fran finally let go — but held a resolute look on his face nonetheless.

"Fine. I'll stop bothering you. But I'm not entirely giving up."

The elder was sincerely glad his fringes acted as a shield from anyone else viewing his eyes, because they had dilated significantly at his words.

Taking his speechlessness as an answer, Fran proceeded.

"—because, I want to get to the bottom of this, as your friend."

With that, the younger boy left him, in solitude and confusion, just as he had originally wanted, once the final bell for the day rang.

Balling his hand into a fist, he slung his messenger-bag over his shoulder with the other haphazardly, taking his leave as well.

"I never asked you to." He angrily muttered under his breath.

It had been almost a month, and Belphegor found that absolutely nothing he did or changed about his routine made the outcome any different. Daily, even as hard as he tried to escape, he found that Fran still managed to find him, much to his chagrin. Yet, there was an underlying fact of the subtle comfort that disturbed him the most: how Fran always seemed honest in his approaches. How he always expressed an adoration and care that no one else had or ever would express towards him again.

And to make matters worse?

He actually enjoyed the kid's company —as reluctant as he was to mentally concede— as well.

Even so, he felt he held every right to try to hate such a child; who, after all, was a looming reminder of one of the greatest losses he could have, and had indeed, experienced.

Slamming the re-hinged door to his room shut, he flopped onto his bed with a dull thud and his face between his forearms. Eyebrows knit and frowning, he tried his best to ignore his sibling's worried pleas to allow them inside; including the pestering thoughts that continued to prod at his mind.

Coincidentally, Belphegor just happened to be the type to take such instances as a reason to further attempt to dispel the unknown happiness he felt every time he saw him, as a presage.


	3. Inexorable

**Disclaimer:** Amano Akira-sensei owns Reborn! and all its characters; I solely use them for writing funtimes.

* * *

Saying that Belphegor wasn't biased would probably make even the world's strictest adult burst into hysterics.

It was not the very knowledge of what he preferred that ever really bothered anyone; it was the manner in _how_ he got rid of the factors in his life that annoyed him.

Not that anyone dared to outright accuse him of acting in such a way.

However, when it came to _him_, the blond didn't know if his stomach fluttering and palms sweating were the right reactions he should have when he thought of him.

With the mindset of being a Prince, due to the near-constant coddling in his youth, he had one desire and one desire only to have fulfilled: for Fran to leave him alone, once and for all.

Of course, no matter how much he hoped, or paid a whole Church to pray for him or even if he tried himself, the kid would just refuse to comply with his bidding and continue prodding. And in all honesty, he deeply hoped it would never get to the point that he would have to physically force the younger boy out of his life, because he somehow did not want to bring himself to do so.

He almost chilled at the thought.

No, he had personally sworn that he would never resort to such measures again. Even his brothers had made him take an oath that he would not relapse and rely on such blood-curdling tactics. Those days were best left forgotten.

Fingering the serrated edges of his knife carefully, he heaved a sigh, as he set it back down on is nightstand resignedly.

It was a past in which he would _never_ allow to reoccur.

With a soft grunt, he fluidly sat up, scrubbing his face with one hand as he slid out of bed and got ready for school. He only wished as he went through his morning rituals that his mind would not revert to its once twisted ways.

Once he felt he was ready to go, he picked up his things and began to make his way downstairs towards the garage — that is, until a very loud snoring fit stopped him in his tracks. Hidden eyes twitching in rage, he made a half-turn before slamming open the provided door.

Immediately, he picked up a backpack nearby and shoved it onto Squalo's sleeping form. Hissing out swear after breathless swear, he swiftly sat up and glared at the smirking bond waiting on the foot of his bed.

"What?" He asked, clearly annoyed.

A silvery laugh chimed back.

"Unless you want me to fail this Semester, I do have Finals to finish."

Rolling his eyes, the silver-haired youth slipped into decent apparel before heading off with his younger sibling to his car. He would never be able to comprehend why Bel still bothered with school.

Shoving his key into the ignition, they waited in silence for the car to warm up, when a belated realization hit them.

Why was there an aqua-haired youth standing outside of their house with a raven pineapple-haired man?


	4. Upheaval

**Disclaimer:** Amano Akira-sensei owns Reborn! and all its characters; I solely use them for writing funtimes.

* * *

The rage he felt at the sight he and his older sibling awoke to wasn't a hot flash of ire. It wasn't a torrent of fire ready to burst through him that he was soon to breathe out like the Dragoon's he had been read to since his childhood. It was not a surge of adrenal strength that pumped through him intravenously to the point he could tackle down a cattle.

No - it was the type of rage that was blistering cold, that even Squalo got chills by merely looking at the blond worryingly.

Damned if he did, but all Bel could think of as they exited the Cadillac was to slice the smirk the raven-haired bastard to Fran's side was wearing. What right did they hold, to go to their home like so? Who were they, to believe they could intrude into their pedestrian lives without repercussions? Why and how did they even know the location of their abode?

Yet not one question fully registered in the blond's mind.

He simply wanted to get his knife out and sculpt a new mouth on the unwelcome visitor's face. He wanted to pry those filthy hands off what he considered - knew - was his. Furthermore, it only enraged him doubly when Fran continued to stand there, nonchalantly, as if nothing was wrong. As if they had not just tread into their lives abruptly.

As if he had done nothing wrong worth repenting for.

Squalo had taken it upon himself to situate himself up front - mere feet from them - should the need for an intervention from him arise. And by the eerie silence and lack of silvery mirth from his younger brother, it was clear it would be necessary. Despite his growing need to beat the two unwelcome guests to a bloody pulp, and use it to paint over the chipped parts of his car.

"Is that the boy you told me about before, Fran?" The eldest abruptly inquired, tone beyond bemused.

Bel's grip on the sling of his bag tightened to the point the garage smelled faintly of copper.

Pointing to the infuriated blond casually, the aqua-haired youth replied, "His name is Belphegor-senpai, shushou. How many times must I say this?"

A morbid grin cracked his condescending features, and after a playful pinch to the younger, the raven-haired man answered: "Until you finally stop addressing me so indifferently, supposed son of mine."

Lackadaisical frown tugging down on his lips, the youth took a moment to clear his throat.

"You don't do it, either, hypocrite." He paused again, before adding dryly, "Like father like son, I suppose."

However, as soon as his predecessor was to reply, all playfulness dissipated as Squalo suddenly unsheathed his katana. Even Bel had not gotten the chance to see from where it had come from. But by the dead-serious look marring his complexion, none made any notion to joke about it.

That is, with the exception of the raven-haired man who had so cockily intruded.

Stepping forward, he outstretched a gloved hand and began curtly, "Now, is there really any need for such theatrics in front of our pupils? Why don't we -"

The air to the left of his air brushed against his face, and it took them a moment to realize the silver-haired sibling had actually swung his sword.

"I already know who you are. I don't give two shits about keeping things PG-14, either, Mukuro Rokudo." He spat viciously, but with a certain aloofness that further emphasized his withering lenience.

Grin faltering to a sincere frown, Mukuro pulled his hand away but audaciously remained where he stood.

"Do you even know why I bothered to come here, Squalo -?"

Another strike of his weapon cut him off, but caused no visible impact - not even a flinch. Bastard was still as arrogant as he was back when.

"- didn't I just say I don't care?" He grit out, before retracting his sword albeit reluctantly. "Now, get out of here. Both of you."

Fran stepped forward, reaching out with his small hands imploringly, but faltered when the once silent blond turned his head away.

"Or I won't guarantee they'll ever be able to find your bodies this time." He threatened earnestly.

Even when his elder scowled in somewhat defeat, Fran persisted the only way he knew how - pleading and bargaining with words.

"We came to apologize, Senpai."

To this, even Squalo's eyes widened.

Moving closer, with only the desire to make amends, he continued; "I think I know why you're so angry, with me."

The moment he reached Belphegor, however, the unexpected occurred - the quaint sound of silver slicing through leather resonated.

"_Shishishi~_ I have no further reasons to hear you out." He chimed impassively.

Which, given the situation, gave it a lace of perversity in its own fashion - seeing how he had just cut the youth on his forearm.

Turning and motioning to Squalo towards the car, he derailed, "People like you can just rot in the poverty you were born in."

However, with the simple flick of his wrist to hide his blade once more, he tensed still when the youth approached.

"It wasn't shushou's fault Xanxus died. It hurt him just as much as it did you all." He proclaimed boldly.

Yet the words refused to register in his muddled mind of thought-stew. A maniacal grin marring his complexion, the blond and the silver-haired male's immediately faced them once more. This time, their vengeance was clear to be made without intervention.


	5. Odius Decorum

**Disclaimer:** Amano Akira-sensei owns Reborn! and all its characters; I solely use them for writing funtimes.

**Author's Note:** Any questions and confusion stirred now should be answered in next chapters~.

* * *

"You'd better watch what you say, boy." Squalo began to faux caringly chide. "There are still plenty of years for you to live for. Or is it you and your shushou here want to die already?"

Mukuro raised a brow, intrigued, and finally unfolded his crossed arms - revealing a tall trident he'd been holding. And by the gleam the dull garage lighting gave, it wasn't just for show.

"You should know better than to threaten my successor, Superbi-kun." The raven-haired male pointed out humorously, earning a growl.

Suddenly, as the downsized making of their apocalypse was ready to begin, Fran bravely spoke up with more strength than the three combined.

"Xanxus was executed by the criminal known as Byakuran. He was incarcerated on the fourteenth of this past month, after the Police were able to find enough evidence to prove him guilty."

Pulling out a white envelope from an inside pocket of his jacket, though wincing when he tried using his bruised hand, he presented it to Bel.

"Mukuro was in Italy at the time this occurred, so it's physically impossible to say he was the one who did it." Pausing to look at his elder, he added, "I also trust him with believing he hadn't hired Byakuran to do so."

Facing the now speechless siblings, he chewed his lip before including, "There was no way he could have manned the hit. Xanxus was the Leader of the now broken underground syndicate - The Varia. Anyone he'd crossed could have had the resolve to kill him."

Taking a shaky breath, he added, "Shushou really loved him. Why would he slight the man he owed his life to, in such an undignified manner?"

The room broke into a thick silence, one in which Mukuro sullenly frowned at Fran for the unneeded revelation.

"That was uncalled for." He prodded, but the latter simply smiled gently.

"What - your feelings, or the mutual confession?" He mocked lightly.

Squalo suddenly snorted derisively, catching the youth's attention away from the distinct blush on his shushou's face.

"You really did your homework on this one, didn't you?"

Bel glanced at the two for a moment, further confused than he would have liked to have been, given the dire circumstances.

"Did you get your kicks out of this?" The silver-haired male took a moment to point at the small pool of blood at the youth's boot-clad feet.

"Or maybe you had more fun when you found out about him?" He jerked his head towards Belphegor.

Who, in response, frowned. What did he mean -?

"I never meant to find out about Senpai's family; I just wanted to figure out who and why -"

Then, it all clicked in his mind, if only in small, misconstrued fragments. Fran had investigated his whole life, without his permission. Abruptly, the blond stabbed the letter he had been handed through the middle, not a care of its contents as he did so.

He just wanted to hurt the boy as badly as he had done to him.

"Fran," he slinked forward, pulling harshly at the youth's collar. "Leave."

Teal eyes trying to find his - whose were always so secretively kept away from the world's sight - he gulped a bundle of nerves.

"But I -"

Smirk upturning his lips, causing the younger to feel nauseous and fluster simultaneously, he pulled him off his feet.

"Now."

Not all the anger in the world could have prevented Belphegor's heart from aching painfully whence the youth's face began to heat up and his eyes watered. Even in humility, he refused to give up on the loyalty he had pledged so many years prior.

"- Prince or orphan, I'll always love you."

Moreover, none of the joy he had ever experienced in his young adult life could amount anywhere near to what he felt as those words pierced through to him.


	6. Battle for the Sun

**Disclaimer:** Amano Akira-sensei owns Reborn! and all its characters; I solely use them for writing funtimes.

* * *

There had always been a certain amount of impeccability Belphegor felt, the moment he had joined The Varia. Possibly, because he was promised a new life; one free of parental abuse, incest, and most importantly - a life free of destitute. Of course, the former two were reasons alone to have him move out instantly; however, the fact that he was finally going to be able to have a choice - to actually be able to choose - whether he wanted to stick with living in the ghetto's or not, was exhilarating.

He had never thought he would have ever been able to amount to anything else, other than a sixteen-year-old failure.

However, it had been Xanxus who had instilled in him an unimaginable amount of pride he had been raised without, and most importantly; hope. Belphegor had grown a novel faith that he no longer had to - nor would, if he could do anything about it - live in the slums as he had throughout all his primary years. He would no longer be forced to solitude; nor to be silenced when he tried to denounce the morbid acts his brother tried. Neither did he have to put up with his useless paternal counterparts.

The three didn't even deserve the title of "family."

Regardless of the familiarity The Varia had created with one another, it simply could not erase the fact that they still were an underground Syndicate. They would forever be targeted from a myriad of enemies; from law enforcement, to traitors - to even the very society they had once pledged to protect as a whole. As such, they had swiftly grown accustomed to the knowledge that they each were fair game to everyone outside their group. They should never - and never did - lower their guard to anyone not in the Syndicate. They learned to push past their superficial differences to the point they harbored a large amount of trust in the other. Essentially, it was also a sign of necessity; a need for comfort and closeness each member had never received at some point, and longed for now.

And not one of them ever held it against the other, were it to be their sole reason for sticking through.

The day of Xanxus' death had been like a twister and tornado had gone through The Varia's household all at once. Like a stake had been driven through their hearts without any anesthesia. For Belphegor, it was like being told he would have to go back living such a terrifying life once more in the span of a few minutes. They had even killed the poor messenger, from the sheer fury and desolation they experienced as the former gave an impartial "I'm sorry."

Squalo had stopped cutting his hair; Xanxus had once told him during a heated session that he preferred for him to have longer tresses. The style he had kept it in for so long had apparently been too short for his liking; making it impossible for his Boss to toy with the silky strands as he so wished. Lussuria had taken the role of the mother of the house; completely refusing to finish his last year at College. Supposedly, he even denied an offer from starting a Self-Defense school with an old companion of his. Levi A Than had hit a depression that was beyond bearable to watch from everyone else, so they sent him to seek help from Xanxus' adoptive father. Mammon had disappeared since, not a single trace of him left until he returned a week later. They immediately cleared him of any suspicion, once they noted the paradoxical puffiness of his eyes and falter of his usual stinginess.

But, Bel?

He fared far worse than any of them had ever imagined possible. He had even reverted to the same ways in the prime of his youth. He had threatened his former roots, from the sheer suspicion that they had been the ones to harm the man he would come to pride as his Father. He wanted to burn their makeshift home to the ground and them along with it. He wanted them to know how painful it had been to lose Xanxus.

He had spiraled into a cycle of despair and melancholy he never thought he would have to experience again.

He had been on his summer break when the tragedy occurred - barely going to his new semester as a College Sophomore - when another revelation had been told to him through the grapevine. Their only suspect had been a man known as Mukuro Rokudo; though he was a rival to Mammon, all things considered, he was an extremely important man to have on their side. Despite his constant bragging that he would one day wipe out each Mafia who had slighted him, he remained a somewhat flighty ally that they could rely on.

The Varia had never expected that he and their dearest Boss to have ever hit it off; but they had. Their personalities somehow clicked immediately, and they were hardly ever seen without the other. Excluding the betrayal Squalo felt at their sudden proximity in such intimacy, Xanxus assured that Mukuro was nothing less than the man they all saw him as. Neither acted any different, nor with their relationship, even behind closed doors. Even so, they all noted the well-hidden amount of admiration and respect they held for the other.

That, Squalo had conceded requisite with.

Bel had been told through an uncertain source, that Mukuro had harbored a child with an old partner years ago. Apparently, the girl had died due to tragic circumstances he refused to tell, and he took full responsibility of nurturing the child. Although the two were originally distanced, he found some way of connecting - apparently, he and the youth enjoyed any and everything related to the supernatural - and moved to Italy for a while. Years flew by and he ended up relocating back in Japan with the quirky child. Xanxus held no qualms with it, and went about business the same as he always had - though, Squalo once admitted to Lussuria that their Boss had confessed he had been struck with the urge to have a child as well.

Life clearly enjoyed throwing mountains in Belphegor's way; because that child just so happened to be the boy he knew as Fran.

He never realized it to be so, until the rumor finally struck his ears during The Varia's moment of crisis. Shortly thereafter, he became thoroughly convinced that it was the aqua-haired boy's fault that his life was once again destined to ruins. That, had he not been born, Xanxus would never have been hit with baby-fever and become distracted during work. He and his companions - now acknowledged thoroughly as siblings - wouldn't have to trudge on with such shitty lives. The promises they had sworn to during his initial start as a member wouldn't have seemed like lies.

He would never have expended his love more on Fran, than he should have on Xanxus.

Therefore, as the blond and silverette fought the desperate urge to both vomit at the flooding memories and the volatile desire to tint their blades crimson, they simply found they could not. And it wasn't only because of the fear of leaving the others even more alone, nor that they would be finally thrown to jail. None of the more obvious ramifications mattered in the least. And Mukuro and Fran understood exactly why that was; when Bel quaked from the novel urge to sob; as with Squalo, to shout until his voice gave out completely.

They could not; because Xanxus had given his life to protect these two, as he would have with them.


	7. Idylls of the Realists

**Disclaimer:** Amano Akira-sensei owns Reborn! and all its characters; I solely use them for writing funtimes.

**Author's Note:** This was originally to be six chapters long; but as you can tell, I've added far too many details to cut it short now. Sigh.

* * *

Amusement was the last thing Squalo had been aiming to erect from his earlier threats; but as Mukuro chuckled that deep, sultry laugh he always emitted, the silverette frowned darker. And as would be expected from such a take of mockery, the silverette growled deeply and unsheathed his blade once more. By most regards, the two visitors should have felt threatened by his actions - but they did not.

In fact, it was far from it.

A smile adorned Fran's complexion, and despite how much it frustrated the two-pseudo siblings, he did it only of comfort. He really had not wished to hurt them at any point in his life; however, it was the first time he had seen Belphegor let his guard down for so long. It was a miracle to have been able to see it on its own.

Fran simply felt blessed to harbor the right to etch the sensation of having Belphegor's wrath directed solely at him.

"Well, this clearly has been an immense waste of our time and effort." Mukuro broke through the silent tension, eyes averting from shocked aqua to furious sapphire. "Come, Fran; there is nothing left for us to —"

"Oh, leaving again, are you, bastard?" Squalo snorted, although his bravado was given away by the scarce trembling of his sword-wielding hand.

"— …say." A brief sigh from the navy-haired man, before he smirked derisively.

"What, you think you can bring back your precious Boss back if you were to kill us, right here, right now?" A flurry of indescribable emotions flickered through his heterochromial eyes.

Fran watched in what could only be classified as horror and mortification, as his blond crush and elder sibling tensed immediately. The emotions on their faces warned it all: ire, hurt, confusion.

Mukuro's smirk became sincere when no retort was made, and he had to stop himself from a chuckling fit as he turned to the silverette and added, "Or should I say, your "lover"? Superbi Squalo-kun."

The latter male refused to take anything the two virtuosos had to give; instead, he proceeded on following instinct and lunged forward with his metallic appendage. Not only did it infuriate and perplex him further when Mukuro simply chuckled, but he had to bring himself to a screeching halt whence he heard a faint "Oh."

Turning, collectively, they trained their eyes onto the blond youth who seemed to have been gone.

"So… you're trying to tell me… that Squalo and Xanxus…?" Belphegor began, but continued with his usual amused tone.

Not one of them believed he was marginally sane.

Gulping softly, Squalo strode haphazardly towards his younger sibling, worry on his features. Carefully, he reached out a hand, comfort lacing his words as he slowly began to whisper, "Don't listen to them, Bel. Xanxus —"

The abrupt sound of a high-pitched, shrill, war-cry like laugh interrupted, terrifying them all; fear settling into each one of their very bones.

"I get it now! I really, really do." He refuted, inching forward as they stepped back.

What scared them most was the fact that they could now see his eyes, despite his fringe. Belphegor never let anyone see them without -

"You're all… just a bunch of pathetic liars." He stated calmly, laughter ceasing as he armed himself steadily with his silver throwing-knife. "So, even to you scum, I apologize."

Fran, who wanted nothing more to rid himself of his burden he had originally come for, prodded; "Apologize for what, Senpai?"

His answer was the gruesome sight of watching the blond rapaciously assault the silverette, streams of blood decorating the otherwise banal garage. The clattering of weapons and metal scratching metal echoed; Squalo grunted with what seemed honest effort to survive whilst Bel emitted his usual silver laugh. However, it did not send pleasurable shivers up Fran's back; it did not make his heart flutter or his palms perspire as it normally would.

Even Mukuro had to take it upon himself to meddle, in order to save the life of the very man whom he had torn his world apart.

Fran wanted to say what he had to so badly, so much, it literally hurt him as much as the confirmation of the presumed affair had broken Bel. He wanted to confess it so dearly, due to the inexplicable feeling that it would make the blond feel the slightest bit relieved, he knew he could no longer hold back.

Yet, as he opened his mouth to say it, to rid himself of a life-long burden, it was intervened by his shushou.

"No one is to blame for Xanxus' death, Belphegor!" The sound of the latter's blade impacting against his trident interrupted. "Nor are we!" He flinched when the blond snarled; however, Mukuro persevered, leaning close to whisper, "Nor are you."

Like magic, as if he had filliped his fingers to signal his awakening from a trance, the blond youth stopped his barbaric attacks.

His breaths were heavy and ragged, as he had just run ten miles, and his irises were oddly dilated. What they further had not expected was to witness him retch at the sight of all the copper-redolent crimson lining the ambiance as well as the silverette crumpled akimbo. Even more so, when he fell to his knees, a heart-breaking wail slithering from his throat as tears cascaded down his cheeks in a flurry.

"Yes, I am! It's my fault. It is. It's my fault." He began to chant, convictingly; shaking hands gripping his locks painfully as he stared distantly. "It's all my fault."


End file.
